seven-year-old boy cowered in the closet of his family’s suburban home in Florida. He was buried beneath jackets and sports gear, listening to screams coming from down the hall. When they stopped, the silence that followed was far worse. Then heavy footsteps approached and a shadow passed beneath the door. The boy braced for it to burst open, thinking he was about to be found, but the shadow moved on. The boy held his breath until he heard the front door to his house open and shut. The boy wanted nothing more than to stay where he was, but his mother and brother were in danger. So he swallowed his fear, pushed through the coats, and stepped out. The house was silent and still, no broken furniture, no blood – at least until he reached the bedroom. There was a figure on the bed. The sight was too much to process, and he immediately looked away. His gaze fell on a phone lying on the blood-soaked sheet, its screen glowing